SAN­DRA L BLOOD

When Sarah Kerr was a very young child, she cried and prayed for God to help oth­ers—even as she, too, des­per­ate­ly need­ed help.

“At times, the peo­ple you thought would be kind and car­ing were the op­po­site. I was of­ten mocked. I tried to hide from the cru­el­ty, but there were an­gels around,” Kerr re­called.

“God sent an­gels. One was a kind la­dy whose small act of kind­ness be­came a big source of com­fort dur­ing tough times. The oth­er was a se­nior church mem­ber who saw God’s gift in me be­fore I ever did.”

School life was a painful, mixed-emo­tion ex­pe­ri­ence, yet Kerr ex­celled. She emerged as the best read­er in pri­ma­ry school and re­ceived a copy of Lit­tle Women, a prize that sparked her de­ter­mi­na­tion to ex­plore new pos­si­bil­i­ties. She lat­er passed the Com­mon En­trance ex­am and moved on to sec­ondary school.

Kerr said her life took a dis­tinct turn from age 18. She en­dured failed mar­riages, raised mul­ti­ple chil­dren, prayed, dreamed, and saw some of those dreams man­i­fest—on­ly to have life col­lapse again. As she en­tered a sea­son of deep emo­tion­al hurt, de­pres­sion, aban­don­ment and spir­i­tu­al dis­con­nec­tion, her jour­ney to­ward heal­ing be­gan. It was then that the sec­ond an­gel sur­faced.

Se­nior church mem­ber Pearl Big­gart no­ticed some­thing in Kerr and re­ferred her to then-pas­tor Clive Grif­fith, who was on bed rest at the time. He was in se­vere pain, but when Kerr en­tered the room and placed her hands on him, he paused and asked, “Sarah, do you know you have heal­ing hands?”

Kerr said she didn’t un­der­stand it then, but that mo­ment plant­ed a seed. “I didn’t feel pow­er­ful—I felt hum­bled.”

Dur­ing what she de­scribed as her “frag­ile, dark mo­ment,” Kerr was kid­napped and was un­ex­pect­ed­ly res­cued by po­lice—a mo­ment she firm­ly be­lieves was di­vine in­ter­ven­tion.

“That night I re­alised that no mat­ter how far I had fall­en, God was still there pro­tect­ing and guid­ing me. I had a daugh­ter and want­ed her to know that even in the dark­est times, there is still hope.”

Kerr be­gan us­ing her ex­pe­ri­ences to help oth­ers. “I nev­er let my strug­gles de­fine my fu­ture or my scars hold me back. I looked at my­self and saw strength.”

Drawn to na­ture, Kerr stud­ied the busi­ness as­pect of agri­cul­ture at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Trinidad and To­ba­go. But life con­tin­u­al­ly steered her back to­ward heal­ing. She com­bined both pas­sions by rear­ing chick­ens and ducks, find­ing calm and ther­a­py in watch­ing and car­ing for them.

Her time work­ing at a se­cu­ri­ty firm brought new chal­lenges but al­so small vic­to­ries.

“I grad­u­al­ly pieced to­geth­er a sense of self-worth,” she said. “Every day I re­claimed more of my stronger self from a voice once sti­fled, a spir­it bur­dened by re­jec­tion, and a heart scarred by abuse.”

To­day, Kerr has flour­ished in­to a qual­i­fied holis­tic health and well­ness en­tre­pre­neur. She pur­sued nu­mer­ous cours­es over the years, be­gin­ning with In­tro­duc­to­ry Psy­chol­o­gy at UWI Open Cam­pus in 2010.

By 2024, she had com­plet­ed stud­ies in ba­sic aro­mather­a­py, weight-loss strate­gies, and earned diplo­mas in Mas­sage Ther­a­py, Psy­chol­o­gy, and Cog­ni­tive Be­hav­iour­al Ther­a­py (Al­i­son cours­es). She al­so be­came cer­ti­fied in Mesother­a­py of the Face and Lips, Cus­tomised Chem­i­cal Peels (Mi­la­dy), and Con­tin­u­ing Ed­u­ca­tion (Er­ic Purves). She is cur­rent­ly un­der­tak­ing Body No­va stud­ies and com­plet­ing a Dial­y­sis Tech­ni­cian Diplo­ma at the In­sti­tute of Med­ical Ed­u­ca­tion.

Fol­low­ing a spir­i­tu­al prompt­ing, she ap­plied for a mas­sage ther­a­pist po­si­tion ad­ver­tised on­line—an act of faith that even­tu­al­ly led to her be­com­ing the founder and own­er of Body Soul Health & Well­ness Me­di Spa, lo­cat­ed at Plaza 44, Eleanor Street, Ch­agua­nas. She is now work­ing to­ward com­plet­ing Seren­i­ty Haven: Pre­miere Se­nior Liv­ing Home.

“My jour­ney is a tes­ta­ment to the re­silience of the hu­man spir­it. Every woman car­ries more than the world will ever see,” she said.

Through her work, Kerr sup­ports clients seek­ing heal­ing in ar­eas such as emo­tion­al wounds, un­re­solved trau­ma, blood­line cy­cles, spir­i­tu­al pain, and un­der­stand­ing how the Holy Spir­it speaks through dreams and in­tu­ition.

Kerr says she is still walk­ing through her own heal­ing—of heart, body and blood­line—through prayer, fast­ing, and soul-care prac­tices.

She is a moth­er of four: Tia, 30; twins Talia and Tamia, 20; and her son Tyriq, 12. She is al­so the joy­ful grand­moth­er of nine-year-old T’yan­na. She main­tains that she is not a heal­er but a ves­sel: “The Holy Spir­it does the rest.”

“My pur­pose is to pro­vide a sanc­tu­ary for women—a safe space where heal­ing flows, bur­dens are re­leased, and the body, mind and spir­it are re­stored. I still get urges to hide, but I un­der­stand now that every painful ex­pe­ri­ence has been a step­ping stone to­ward a brighter fu­ture.”

She ex­pressed grat­i­tude to Do­minique Her­nan­dez, her hair­styl­ist, make­up artist and pho­tog­ra­ph­er, for sup­port­ing her through key phas­es of her heal­ing jour­ney.

Kerr shares a pow­er­ful mes­sage for women:

“You are not weak. You are not over­re­act­ing. You are not imag­in­ing the pain. You are a woman who has sur­vived more than most peo­ple will ever un­der­stand. Heal­ing is pos­si­ble. Re­lease is pos­si­ble. Free­dom is pos­si­ble. I feel ho­n­oured to help women be­come whole.”